We Take Care of Our Own
by starkiller19
Summary: Tony and Bruce visit Peter at work and are not at all impressed by his boss.


The chime above the door rang out through the building, drawing Peter's attention from the news report on the fuzzy screen of the old TV hanging in one corner of Bob's Subs, the tiny sandwich shop he currently worked at. His smile fell as he came face to face with none other than Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. He straightened up and fiddled with his shirt nervously as the two walked up to the counter.

"Hey, Pete. I had no idea you worked here!" Tony exclaimed, though the tone in his voice told Peter quite the opposite. Peter rolled his eyes at the billionaire as he pulled out a small notepad.

"Hey Mr. Stark. Mr. Banner. What can I get for you guys?" Peter asked.

"I'll have a cheesesteak, and Bruce will have a BLT," Tony replied, pointing at the man behind him.

"Hang on, Tony. I don't want a BLT. He doesn't know what he's talking about." Bruce pushed his way past Tony while he squinted at the menu behind Peter's head. He fiddled with his glasses which for some reason kept falling down his nose. "You guys have a good chicken parm?"

Peter shrugged as he tapped his pencil on the granite counter. "They're decent."

"I'll have one of those then," Bruce told him with a smile. Peter nodded as he turned and passed the slip of paper through the small window to the cook in the back. Peter leaned on the counter as he glanced at every inch of the restaurant, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. He tapped his fingers against the cool granite as he risked a glance at the two avengers standing slightly off to the side, waiting patiently for their sandwiches. He opened his mouth to say something but clamped it shut as the door to the back room swung open, and his boss waltzed out. He couldn't help but tense as the man stepped closer until he was mere centimeters away from the boy.

Peter felt an arm snake around his waist as a gnarled meaty hand rested on his slim waist. The boy bit down on the inside of his lip hard, and he cringed as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

"How's it going out here, Parker?" the man asked as he flashed a crooked smile at the boy.

"Everything's fine, sir," Peter replied. His voice was tight and higher than he meant, and Tony and Bruce seemed to pick up on his distress. Tony stared at the boy, eyes calculating as they scanned his body. He clenched his jaw as he noticed the hand on Peter's waist, a hot rage burning in his eyes. Peter jumped as the hand trailed a little lower, and as he glanced at Bruce, he could see a frightening green tint to his skin. Veins were popping in his neck as his breathing grew labored, but he tried his best to keep his cool. He couldn't have the hulk destroying helf the city. Tony was about to say something, but Peter shook his head as he nodded slightly at Bruce. Stark realized that Banner was dangerously close to hulking out, so he drew the others attention.

"Maybe you should wait in the car. I'll bring our sandwiches out," he said. Bruce simply nodded as he clenched his fists and walked out the door.

After the man left, Peter's boss pulled his hand away and placed his arm around the boy's shoulders, his fingers squeezing the thin frame gently. If it hadn't been for Peter's stiff form, Tony would have thought the two were best friends. "You're that guy, Tony Stark, right?" he asked. Tony simply nodded, his lips pursed as he eyed the man who had just touched his protege. Who was still touching him. He desperately wanted to tell the guy off, but the tense boy in front of him silently pleaded with him to just let it go. The cook shoved the two sandwiches through the window between the kitchen and the rest of the shop and rang a small bell. As Peter turned around to grab the sandwiches, his boss followed him, placing his hand back on his waist as he whispered something in the boy's ear. Tony could tell by the way that Peter's whole body tensed that his protege felt very uncomfortable, but he breathed deeply and just let it go. He took his sandwiches and left, but he and Peter were definately talking about this later.

After his shift, Peter found himself standing outside of Stark tower, staring up at the massive building, a feeling of foreboding hindering him from going inside. He shifted his backpack on his shoulder as he took a deep breath and pushed the large glass door open. As soon as Tony had called him and said 'we need to talk', Peter knew what he wanted to talk about. Peter bounced up and down as he waited for the elevator, but as the shiny metal doors slid open, he hesitated for a moment before stepping in.

"Hello, Mr. Parker. Mr. Stark is expecting you," JARVIS spoke.

"Ok, thanks JARVIS," Peter replied. He leaned against the wall as he felt the elevator rise. The doors opened up into a large sitting area he immediately recognized as the common area for the avengers to "hang out" as Tony called it. Peter dropped his backpack on one of the chairs and walked over to a kitchen area. He plopped down at the large island, grabbed an apple from the basket of fruit, and took a large bite. As he munched on it he thought about the events of that afternoon. He brushed his hand against his waist as the memory of his boss's hand came back to his mind, and Peter placed the apple back on the counter, a sudden feeling of nausea ruining his appetite.

"Hey, kid," a voice called as Tony waltzed into the kitchen. He immediately went to the bar and poured himself a drink. He knew he'd need it with the conversation that was coming. "Bruce wanted to talk to you too, but I didn't want to take the chance of him unleashing the big guy."

Peter simply nodded as he watched Tony down the liquid in his cup before pouring another glass. The boy gulped as he stared at the counter, heat burning in his cheeks as he just now came to terms with what happened. Tony, his hero, had just watched Peter's boss _touch_ him. Peter rubbed the back of his neck as the humiliation hit him like a ton of bricks.

"You want something to drink? Cap would kill me if I gave you some of this," Tony said as he raised the bottle in his hand. "But do you want like water or soda or something?"

"Water's fine," Peter mumbled. Tony took out a glass from the cabinet and poured the water, sliding the cup across the counter to the boy. Peter thanked him and took a small sip, but the water simply made him feel more queasy than he had before. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he waited for Tony to start the conversation.

"So, how long have you been working at Bob's Subs?" Tony asked casually, leaning against the bar to look Peter in the eye.

"About six or seven months," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Cool." They settled into an awkward silence, one trying very hard to avoid the coming conversation and the other desperately trying to find a good way to start it. "So, that guy, is he your boss?" Peter nodded. Tony pursed his lips. Being sexually harassed by a coworker was bad enough but his _boss_?! The older man shuddered as he remembered the way the man had touched Peter.

"Look, Tony. It's no big deal," Peter explained.

"Peter, your boss grabbed your ass, in front of me, as if it was no big deal!"

"Who grabbed who's ass?" a voice called as a very confused Steve stood in the entryway looking like he regretted coming to the kitchen. Peter's eyes widened as Tony opened his mouth to answer him, and the boy rushed to explain.

"Oh, you know some couple at the mall. Tony was just telling me about how much public displays of affection disgust him," Peter lied as he glared at Tony. The older man returned the glare as Peter shook his head.

"Liar. Pete's boss is a total asshole. He _touched_ him, Steve," Tony replied as rage boiled inside of him. He clenched his fists tightly as his nails dug into his palm. Steve blinked as he looked at Peter, eyes softening as the boy dipped his head to avoid eye contact.

"You mean like, touched him touched him? As in…" he didn't finish his sentence, but Tony nodded.

"Does that kind of thing happen often? Has this been happening the whole time you've worked there?" Tony asked. He wanted to know he full extent of what was going on.

"Uh, p-pretty much," Peter answered with a sad smile. He played with the string of his sweatshirt because he needed something, anything, to do with his hands. He had too much nervous energy on a daily basis and with this whole thing coming up, it was even worse.

Steve sat down on one of the barstools, concern evident on his face as he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. As soon as the hand made contact, Peter tensed and jumped up so fast that the barstool tipped over and fell to the floor with a loud bang. Steve jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned and began to apologize profusely, but Peter held up a hand to silence the soldier.

"It's fine, Steve. See, Tony, this is what happens when you talk about these things, Tony," Peter joked with a nervous smile. Tony eyed him up, and a sudden thought popped into his head. Tony felt his blood run cold as a wave of nausea hit him.

"Peter, did he… did your boss go any further?" he asked through clenched teeth. As soon as Peter looked away from him, a red tinge painting his cheeks, Tony knew. He knew _something_ had happened. Peter remained silent, and Steve and Tony exchanged horrified glances.

"Peter, please. You have to talk to us," Steve practically begged.

"No," the boy said, shaking his head emphatically.

"No?" Tony asked. "No you won't talk to us or no he didn't do anything else?"

Peter pursed his lips as he stared at his mentor with a look of absolute misery. "No, h-he didn't do anything else, but he t-tried to…" Peter trailed off as he shivered at the memory. Tony reached out to comfort Peter, but immediately thought against it as he remembered the boys reaction to Steve touching him.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Tony asked. Tony thought it was a reasonable question, but Peter looked at him like he had two heads.

"At my job I'm Peter Parker not Spiderman. Peter Parker's a defenseless skinny teenage boy who couldn't fend off a school bully let alone his boss," he replied as if it were obvious. Tony poured more in his glass and took a drink.

"Well, yeah, but you could have told me or any of the other avengers or, hell, even May," Tony replied. Peter could feel both Tony and Steve staring at him, their eyes burning holes in his head, and he squirmed under their gaze. Suddenly he wished he was anywhere but here. He eyed the window, wondering if he'd be able to make it out the window before one of them stopped him. He had his web shooters on him, and he could easily slip his mask on, but he highly doubted running from his problems was a good way to make his mentor proud.

"Any way I can have some of that?" Peter half joked as he eyed the drink in the man's hand. Tony raised an eyebrow as he glanced between the kid and his glass before he looked over at Steve with a shrug.

"No. No way Stark. Peter's underage. Like seriously underage."

"Ah, come on, Cap. I was drinking at his age," Tony argured.

"Yeah and look at you now." Tony frowned at that but didn't reply. The soldier had a fair point. So what if the billionaire had a bit of a drinking problem? Everybody has their issues.

"Okay, we aren't talking about me right now. So? Why didn't you tell someone, bug boy?"

Peter swallowed as all of the attention returned to him. "I need this job," he replied. "Ever since Uncle Ben died, May's been having a hard time paying bills and with my metabolism, she's spending more on food than she should be. I've been helping out a little bit, plus I have college to save up for."

Tony ran his fingers through his hair as Peter rubbed unshed tears from his eyes. "Hell, Peter, if it's money you're worried about you could have just said you needed help. I _am_ a billionaire."

"I don't need your charity, Mr. Stark," Peter replied with more determination than Tony had ever heard from him.

"Look, it's okay to ask for help," Steve told him. "You shouldn't have to stay in a place like that so you can pay your bills. What that man did to you was disgusting and wrong, and if that ever happens again, I want you to tell me. Okay?" Peter simply nodded, not daring to look his two heroes in the eye.

"And you obviously aren't going back to work there," Tony added. Peter opened his mouth to argue because he _needed_ his job, but the billionaire held up a hand to silence him. "I've been looking for a new lab assistant."

Peter immediately told Tony he didn't have to do that, but Tony kept insisting that Peter was the best person for the job. Peter thanked him, relief filling him as he realized he wouldn't have to deal with that man ever again.

"Look, Peter if something is going on with you in your personal life we want to know about it. We care about you when your Peter Parker, not just when you're Spiderman. We're a team. We take care of our own," Steve said with a smile.

"Thanks guys. It's nice to know that the team has my back," Peter replied.

He left shortly after that spewing some excuse about his aunt worrying if he came home too late, but really he just wanted to get out of there. It was a lot to process in a short time. Thankfully they had both promised not to tell anyone about it, though they didn't seem to happy about. Now that Peter no longer had to worry about going to work, he just wanted to forget that whole thing ever happened, but he knew that was way too much to ask for.

"Hey, Peter. How was work?" Aunt May called as he opened the door to their small apartment.

"Work was fine," he replied. He placed his backpack beside the door and followed the sound of pots clanging to the kitchen where his aunt was in the middle of making spaghetti. "I think I might quit though."

The spoon she was holding fell to the counter, sauce splattering the marble counter as she turned to look at her nephew. "Why? I thought you loved that job?" she asked, her voice tight with worry.

"Mr. Stark showed up at the shop and offered me a job working as a lab assistant. I'm pretty sure the pay is better, and I'd pick working in a lab over making sandwiches any day," he replied with a shrug.

"That's great, honey," May said as she hugged him tightly. "Dinner's pretty much ready. Why don't you tell me all about it."

The next morning Peter flipped on the local news station as he shoved a large spoonful of cereal in his mouth. Sun streamed through the window, and birds chirped outside. Today was a good day, and Peter was determined to enjoy it. It was Saturday, no school, no bullies, and better yet, no Bob's Subs. Peter froze mid bite as a picture of his boss from Bob's Subs showed on the screen along with the headline _Local Business Owner Arrested for Tax Evasion._ Peter watched a video of his boss being led out of the shop in handcuffs, a look of absolute confusion on his face as he insisted he didn't do anything wrong.

Peter pulled out a phone and sent a quick text to Tony. _What did you do?_ Not even a minute later, his phone beeped. _I pulled some strings. His punishment will be much better than he deserves but I respect your decision to keep this to yourself._ Peter put his phone away with a smile. They had his back. They'd do anything to protect him, and as a part of the team, Peter would do anything to protect them too.


End file.
